Heralds and Doctors
by dragoncatofpern
Summary: The Doctor (tenth) is dumped in Valdemar and the TARDIS promptly stops working right. Amy and Rory end up stuck there too for no apparent reason and have to convince themselves to trust this strange incarnation that claims to be the Doctor and has no memory of them. And to make it all more confusing, they then manifest gifts and have to deal with a long-dead Herald-Mage.
1. Chapter 1

**Sorry this first chapter is so short, I'll try and make the rest a bit longer. Hope you all enjoy this! And that I remember to update this!**

 **Neither Valdemar nor Doctor Who are mine, sadly.**

 _BANG!_

The Doctor gave a little yelp of startlement as he fell forward into the TARDIS console. There was a sad little fizzling sound when it landed, sending up smoke into the main control room. The Doctor let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and shoved himself back up onto his feet. He pulled on his trench coat calmly and stepped outside. Somewhere new! A whole other universe judging by the difficulty the TARDIS had had when landing. The Doctor stepped out the door into a grassy, sunlit—ditch. His arms pinwheeled, trying to keep him balanced until his feet landed on the bottom of the muddy ditch with a splash. The Doctor caught himself with his hands on the edge of a well-trodden dirt road, stood up straight, and clambered out of the ditch with rather more dignity than when he'd fallen in, glancing around quickly to make sure no-one saw him.  
"Well then, where am I?"  
He took out his screwdriver, pointing it all around.  
"Hmm. Nowhere I've been before, that's for certain. Not much of anything I recognize, and rather a lot of psychic energy. Strange. Well, off we go. Allons-y!"  
With that, the Doctor sauntered off down the road.

The sun was high in the sky as Herald Terril sighed, shoving her grey hair out her face. All predictions pointed toward a nasty winter, but only so many provisions would be able to fit in the Waystation.  
 _Knock knock knock.  
_ "Milady Herald?" came the voice of the Drunken Bird's chief stableboy.  
"Come in, Brent." Terril answered, turning around in her chair. In walked Brent, a skinny, grubby boy with mousey brown hair followed by a stranger. The stranger had short, darker brown hair that stood up like a bunch of spikes, an incongruous grin on his face, and eyes that looked older than they had any right to be. He wore a long pale brown coat and what looked like a fitted, stripey blue shirt underneath it.  
"This bloke came in outta nowhere in a field north a' town," the boy scratched his head. "Says 'is name's the Doctor, don't know anythin' about what's goin' on."  
"Doesn't know anything, Brent. Good grammar is a great helper in being able to advance further in life. Thank you for bringing him to me."  
"You're welcome, milady Herald." With that, the teenager shut the door and headed off, presumably back to the inn.  
Terril rubbed her temples as she looked the man over. "Good afternoon, Doctor."  
The strange man gave an infectious grin. "Love me a good mystery. Good afternoon, Herald. What's your name?"  
"Doesn't matter to you," she answered shortly. "What's yours?"  
"Doctor."  
Terril gave him a long look, then sighed. "Whatever. What's your problem?"  
"Don't know, really." The Doctor replied. "What's yours?"  
"None at the moment! Why are you here?"  
He smiled again. "I have no idea why I'm here, or where 'here' is. That's what I'm trying to find out."  
The woman pinched the bridge of her nose. "You really have no idea? Kingdom? Town? Anything?"  
The Doctor shook his head and Terril pulled out an old piece of notepaper and a pencil.  
"Fine." She began drawing in quick, smooth lines. "This is Valdemar. This is Haven, in the middle, the capital city. We're to the north of that by a good ways, about halfway to Sorrows. Way up north here is the Forest of Sorrows which marks the northern edge of Valdemar. North of that is a bunch of wilderness and tribesmen. To the East of us is Iftel, which is neutral. To the southeast is Hardorn and to the south is Karse. We're currently neutral with Hardorn and in the middle of a war with Karse. To the southwest is Rethwellan and between those last two is Menmellith, which is a client state of Rethwellan. We have a pretty long-lasting treaty with both Rethwellan and Menmellith, so that's not a problem. On the west side of Valdemar is Lake Evendim and beyond that is the Pelagiris Forest, which is full of magic creatures and crazy stories. I would suggest not going there. Do you know what the uniform I'm wearing means?"  
"Is that why you're wearing all white?" the Doctor asked.  
"Yes. In Valdemar, at least, anyone wearing all white is a Herald, anyone in all green is a Healer, and anyone in all red is a Bard. We Heralds also have Companions that look like white horses with blue eyes but be aware that they're a lot more. Healers heal people, pretty self-explanatory. Bards do music. Heralds uphold and spread the law, give news, deliver important messages, lead troops, and pretty much do whatever they have to protect people who can't protect themselves and Valdemar in particular. Rethwellan, Hardorn, and Valdemar are each led by a Monarch. Rethwellan's monarch is chosen by a sword, ours have to be Heralds. Karse is ruled by a prophet, though I believe they technically have a king. No-one knows much of anything about Iftel. Understand?" Terril glanced up at the stranger.  
The Doctor seemed to look through her for a moment before nodding his comprehension.  
"The town is right beside the North Road. My advice is to take that south to Haven and talk to the Healers there if you're looking for help with this amnesia of yours. There are a couple of healing temples on the way there, but the Healers there are used to dealing with mostly just illness and physical wounds, but you appear well and uninjured. Tell the Healers down at Haven that Herald Terril sent you and you should be alright. Got it?"  
"Yes." The Doctor pursed his lips. "Forest of Sorrows? That's an unusual name."  
The Herald looked at him for a moment. "The last Herald-Mage died there about 200 years ago. Ever since, the forest has killed anyone who enters it with harmful intent. I was on circuit up there once. Strangest thing. There's not even always a visible cause of death, they just look terrified out of their wits. I'm certainly glad that whatever it is seems to be on our side, that's not how I'd care to die."  
The stranger paused for a moment, then grinned slowly. "I guess that's where I'm headed, then. Sounds like just the right kind of problem for me."  
Terril stared out the door for a minute after the Doctor left before going back to her work.


	2. Chapter 2

**Still a little short, but whatever. Feedback is as welcome as ever! And don't worry, everybody will meet up eventually.**

 **Neither Doctor Who nor Valdemar are mine.**

Amy ran through the rain, phone pressed to her ear, feet pounding on the sidewalk. "Rory! Why can't you come get me already?"  
"I'm in the middle of a doctor's appointment Amy!" came the voice on the phone.  
Amy pouted. "Fine. But don't blame me when I come down with pneumonia or whatever."  
"Oh—fine. Get inside somewhere, I'll pick you up when I'm done. Or take the bus already! I just wish we had a second car."  
"Oh, now you agree with me. Oi!" That last was to the world in general when Amy slipped on something that didn't feel like pavement, falling on her face. The phone beeped twice, ending the call. When she grabbed her phone again, Amy saw why. No reception. No reception? How was that possible? Her Raggedy Doctor had fixed her phone so that she had reception wherever she was. Literally wherever she was. Or whenever. So why didn't she have reception?  
Amy frowned at it, then stuck her phone into her jacket pocket, wiping mud off her face. She was somewhere else now. It was mid-morning, the sun was bright on the unfamiliar grass of wherever she was. Unfamiliar, wet grass. Amy stood up and brushed herself off. She was in a large, empty field. Amy wandered for a few minutes before she found what appeared to be a wide gravel road, packed and covered in the many footprints of humans, carts, and animals, but apparently no motor vehicles.  
"Okay then." She muttered to herself. "Pick a direction. Any direction."  
Amy began trudging north along the road.

There was a knock at Herald Terril's door.  
"Come in."  
It was the boy Brent again, looking nervous. This time he was accompanied by a red-haired girl, covered in mud and wearing a scarf and short leather jacket.  
"Dear gods. Another one?"

Amy crossed her arms uncertainly, staring at the woman in white. The stranger was rather wrinkled, with grey hair pulled back in a ponytail and a scar running down her cheek. She was dressed all in white with a high collar, bent over a pile of paperwork. The stranger pinched the bridge of her nose, looking Amy over.  
"So," the woman asked. "Who are you?"  
"Amy." She shifted her weight.  
"Amy what? Do you know?"  
"Amy Pond. Amelia Pond, well technically Amy Williams. I'm married."  
The woman in white raised an eyebrow. "And what do you think is going on? Do you know where you are? What I am? Anything?"  
"Ah—no. Sorry. What's going on?"  
The woman stood up, leaning over the desk. "My name is Terril. I'm a Herald. Do you know what that means, Amy Pond?"  
"Not exactly."  
"It means it's my job to do things like enforce the laws, spread news, and do what I can to protect people. It's a very special job, and those who fill it are Chosen by the Companions, who look like white horses with blue eyes. Trust me when I say they're much more than that. Heralds wear white, Healers wear green, and Bards wear red. Do you have any guesses as to each of their functions?" The Herald tilted her head.  
"Umm… Healers heal people, right? Like doctors? And Bards do music and stuff?" Amy hazarded.  
"Correct. Now, I have one question before I give you directions," continued the woman. "A few hours ago, a man calling himself the Doctor came through here. Are you with him?"

Rory looked at his phone in startlement when the call broke off. Huh. That was strange. Usually Amy's phone always worked—that's right, he realized, Amy's phone worked everywhere in the universe now. So why had the call broken off? She didn't hang up.  
"Oh, Amy…"

The interminable doctor's appointment had finally ended and Rory stood out in the rain, phone in hand. Once, twice, three times it rang—nothing. At last the phone reached someone, but the voice on the other end was not the one Rory had been expecting.  
"Rory? What is it? Talk quickly."  
"River?" Rory said in surprise.  
"His phone doesn't always work, so it went to me. What is it?"  
"Um. River. It's Amy. Her phone—it lost reception. It never does that!"  
"Rory!" River exclaimed. "You tried to call the Doctor for tech support?!"  
"No, of course not, it's just that he fixed her phone so that it has reception everywhere. As in _everywhere_ , River, not just Earth. It can't logically have lost reception because it has reception everywhere in the universe. Tell me how this is possible."  
There was the sound of River sucking in a breath. "Then perhaps she isn't in this universe. And maybe the Doctor isn't either, which could be why the call went to me. If she isn't—Rory, did the Doctor go and get her?"  
"No!"  
River cursed. "Find her. Or him, either one. Something's happening, and it can't bode well—" River was cut off as the connection dropped.  
Rory flailed for one heart-stopping moment as the ground dropped out from under him, only to land on the ground in what appeared to be a rather dusty alley. The sun was high in the sky, almost at its zenith. It was sunny, not pouring. And the buildings all around him looked more like what he had seen in his 2000 years as a Roman than modern construction, built out of whitewashed stone. Rory struggled to his feet, wiping his hands on his pants. He picked up his phone. No reception. Rory breathed out, stuck it in his pocket, and took a closer look around.

"Milady Herald?" Herald Terril cursed inwardly, got up, and opened the door. Brent stood in the doorway looking apologetic, next to a scruffy man with short blondish hair and wearing a sweater.  
"Leave us, Brent." The young boy gave a sigh of relief and left.  
"Sorry, but have you seen my wife?" Rory asked.  
"Long red hair, brown eyes, scarf, covered in mud?"  
"Ah, yeah, that'd be her. Sorry."  
Terril sighed. "She headed north, following a man who introduced himself as "the Doctor". A few things you need to know before you leave: Anyone wearing all white is a Herald, we uphold the law and perform important legal, political, legislative, and practical tasks for the protection of the Kingdom and the people in it and really everyone who tries to make the world a better place. You can go to any Herald for help. Anyone in green is a Healer, which is fairly self-explanatory. Anyone in red is a Bard, anyone in blue is part of the Army or the Guard and they should also help you if you ask, as should the Healers. The road north is just east of town and I suggest taking a horse if you want to catch up to the others anytime soon. Give this note to the Guard at the stables in this building, he'll lend you a horse but you need to give back to the Guard when you catch up with your friends or I'll be sending people after you. What's your name?" Terril scribbled something on a piece of paper, then handed it to him.  
Rory blinked. "Um, Rory. Rory Williams. What's up north?"  
The Herald sighed. "The Forest of Sorrows." At Rory's look of incomprehension, she elaborated. "Creepy haunted forest that kills anyone with harmful or evil intent."  
"Oh."  
"No really, don't be afraid to ask help of any Guard, Herald, or Healer you meet if you really need the help. It's our job." She ran one hand through her hair. "Now feel free to leave, so I can finish my paperwork."  
"Oh, um, of course," Rory stuttered. He turned and left.

River Song stared at the phone for a moment, then gave it back to the prison guard.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi! Thank you so much for reading this far! :)  
Once again, neither of these fandoms are mine. I hope you like the next chapter.**

Amy leaned against the tree behind her grumpily. Rain was pouring out of the sky like the world was about to end, and it was bloody cold rain, too. Of course the Doctor had to go this way, so she had taken shelter under this tree when the downpour started. She only hoped her quarry had done the same.  
Amy heard hoofbeats on the road behind her and looked up. Rory was cantering slowly along the road, sitting easily atop a plain-looking brown horse. Amy stood hurriedly up and ran to the edge of the road, just in time for him to very nearly run her over. She gave out a startled shriek. After a few paces, Rory managed to pull the horse to a stop and hop off.  
"Amy!" he yelled. "Never do that again! I almost killed you-" he was interrupted by a flying hug. The horse started backing away, but stopped soon enough while the couple hugged.  
"Rory," Amy said anxiously, "how did you get here? I've been going after the Doctor, there was a herald or whatever they're called back in the last town who told me he'd gone this way."  
"The Doctor's here? Oh good, he can get us out of here."  
"Only if we can catch him," Amy added with an infectious grin. "Wanna run?"  
Rory grinned back at her. "Always."

The Doctor stumbled through the rain, head spinning. His hair was flattened against his skull, his temples pounding, and he couldn't feel his feet. This last was testified by their subsequent tripping in the mud, sending the Doctor flat on his face. Again. He picked himself back up and stumbled on. Once the headache that had been growing since his arrival had reached huge levels, the Doctor had decided to make a quick detour back to his TARDIS to see if he could figure out what was going on. Unfortunately, it had turned out not to be so quick a trip after all, given his current inability to go in a straight line. Finally, he fell into a ditch. A vaguely familiar ditch, given the earlier prints in the mud. Just above the edge of the ditch on the far side from the road was, yes, at last, a well-loved blue wood construction. The Doctor gasped in relief and fumbled his key into the lock, turned it. The door opened, offering sweet sanctuary- he fell over, cracking his head on the bottom of the TARDIS. The Doctor tried to clamber back to his feet, but darkness flooded into his mind in a rose of cold. He blacked out.

It had been over an hour, and the rain had stopped, but Amy and Rory had found no sign of the Doctor. At last, Rory got off the horse, handing the reins to Amy. Rory the Roman, they both knew, could track a person and now he was scanning the sides of the road.  
"You sure he went this way?" he asked.  
"That's what the Herald said."  
At last Rory came to a bush. Fully half the branches were broken.  
"Well, somebody's been here, at least."  
A short ways on was a pine tree with a large, muddy handprint on the trunk. They proceeded in this fashion for a little while longer, still on the North Road. Off the side of the road, they eventually found a series of faint tracks, mostly washed away by the rain. Strangely, they staggered from side to side as if the owner were drunk and the pair found occasional handprints on rocks or trees or, sometimes, the ground. Finally they reached another road. On the opposite side was a ditch and, directly opposite the road, the TARDIS. Or at least, Amy thought it was the TARDIS. It was Rory who finally raised the comment that resided in both of their minds.  
"She looks awfully beat-up".  
"Smaller, too, and a different color blue." One hand reached out to grasp the other and the Ponds walked up to the stranger TARDIS.  
"The door's open." Amy glanced at her husband.  
There was a groan from underneath them and both Ponds jumped back. A man lay in the ditch, coated in mud over a pale brown trenchcoat, hair ruffled and dark brown, wearing a dark blue pinstriped jacket with a muted tie that was probably red under the dirt. His head was marked by a multitude of small cuts and bruises including a large bump on his temple. Clutched in the stranger's hand was a small silver key on a necklace and poking out of his pocket was- a small, silver sonic screwdriver with a blue end. The Ponds looked at each other as the stranger stirred.

It had stopped raining when the Doctor finally woke up on the hard floor of the TARDIS- wait a moment. That wasn't right, couldn't be right. He'd been knocked out in a ditch- he sat up with a start, only to see two strangers standing next to him. One had long, bright red hair, a leather jacket, and a scarf and the other short blondish hair and was wearing a sweater. The latter was also holding his screwdriver in one hand.  
"Who are you?" he demanded. "What happened? And you, nose boy, give me back my screwdriver. Now."  
The woman raised an eyebrow. "Not until you tell us who you are and where the Doctor is."  
"Wha?" he stuttered. "Well I guess you're in luck, I am the Doctor and oh, dear," he answered, "my headache's coming- " he blinked a few times, moving his mouth in silence and clutching at his head. Thoughts rushed into his brain, not his thoughts, other people's.  
 _:You're not the Doctor!:_ yelled a Scottish-sounding voice in his head.  
"You're not the Doctor. I know what the Doctor looks like," the woman replied flatly.  
"I know," he managed to gasp out, "I heard you the first time." The Doctor pulled himself up on the railing beside him and stood shakily. "But I am the Doctor, I should know. And you still haven't answered my question." he wheezed.  
Rory glanced back at Amy, then told him. "I'm Rory Williams and this is my wife, Amelia Pond."  
"Pond?" he asked. "Sounds like a name in a fairytale."  
Amy's hand rose to her mouth. Abruptly, the Doctor was overwhelmed by a rush of memories. A little redheaded Scottish girl, all alone in her house. The crack in her wall. The images made no since. A man with huge hair, a ridiculous chin, and _his shirt_ all shredded to bits, eating... fish fingers and custard? That must have been repulsive.  
"Fish fingers and custard," Amy exclaimed, "what about fish fingers and custard?"  
"What?" he asked vaguely, jerked out of the river of thought. "I don't know, it's your memory. I think."  
"You're reading my mind right now?"  
The Doctor winced. "I don't exactly know?"  
Fish fingers and custard, his mind screamed, a crack in her wall. The crack flashed through his brain again, a thousand times. Angels. A battle, soldiers in uniform lined up for battle. The woman again and again and her husband, Rory, his name was. Romans and Cleopatra- no. Her. River. The archaeologist. What? The Pandorica- but that was a legend. Daleks, and cybermen, and the TARDIS all shiny and new-looking and the man with the chin, in all of these pictures. A wedding, the woman's, and he had been... late? And Rory was... a Dalek?  
"You don't know?" The woman demanded incredulously. "You don't know if you're reading my mind?"  
"I haven't exactly done this before," the Doctor gasped, lunging for his screwdriver. The man- Rory, he remembered- moved it calmly away. He stood up straight again, dizzily, hearts pounding. He stared into Rory's eyes. "I am the Doctor, I swear to you, and you must have travelled with me. Now give me my screwdriver before something happens."  
"Fine."  
"Thank you."  
Rory dropped it into the Time Lord's hand, which closed firmly around it before the Doctor collapsed with another groan of pain. He scrabbled to put the screwdriver back in its pocket against the burning pain in his head and got another series of images, of 2000 long years of waiting, waiting in a world with no stars while Amy- that was her name. Right. She had said it earlier, or rather Rory had. He curled into a ball as the TARDIS made a sympathetic whooshing sound and stared fixedly at one of the round thingies on the wall.  
"I think I might need a little help."


End file.
